


Pyrrhic Victory

by doctorworm (turiing)



Category: Dimension 20 (Web Series)
Genre: And Also He's Gay, Backstabbing (literally), Basically Episode 9 From Calroy's POV, M/M, Please Imagine Human Calroy Otherwise This Is Too Ridiculous, Repression, Unrequited Love, spoilers through episode 9
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-16
Updated: 2020-07-16
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:55:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25316407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/turiing/pseuds/doctorworm
Summary: Calroy Cruller is a selfish man, but even selfish men can feel.
Relationships: Calroy Cruller/Amethar Rocks
Comments: 3
Kudos: 25





	Pyrrhic Victory

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first fic I've ever written, and it just had to be about a piece of cake didn't it.

The quick pace of his footsteps matched the rapid thumping of his heart as Calroy Cruller tread the length of the marble hall leading to the entrance of Castle Candy. His fists clenched and shoulders stiffened as the large doors began to creak open, revealing the surrounding grounds. Hearing of the royal family’s survival was one thing, but seeing them would be quite another. Calroy couldn’t help but grind his teeth at the thought; the damn Rocks family just couldn’t seem to die. 

There had been so many near misses it was starting to become ridiculous. The ambush on the road, the poisoning at the tournament, the confrontation in the church, Amethar and the rest of his family should have been cut down many times over, but they continued to survive by the skin of their teeth. Amethar was many things, but one thing he was not was weak. It seemed all of the time he could have spent as an effective king was spent making him as hard to kill as possible. Calroy didn’t know exactly what he had expected from assassination attempts on someone who held the title of Unfallen, but surely Amerthar was still mortal, there had to be some way to bring him down.

Still, there was a twinge of relief in Cal’s stomach as the faces of Amethar, Ruby, and Jet came into view just beyond the gates of the castle, and the easy smile he put on was automatic, natural even. Just remnants of the role he’d played for twenty long years, he told himself. 

Amethar’s face lit up at the sight of his best friend, and he ran to embrace him. Cal let himself melt into the contact. The king’s relief was palpable, and Calroy felt himself slipping back into his charming, trustworthy role. Despite the pain and shock he’d suffered, the king’s body was still strong, supporting the weight of his friend as the two men clasped each other. A shadow of doubt crossed over the advisor’s face, before he pulled back from the embrace.

“Cal, thank the Bulb you’re here. How did you make it out of Calorum?” The king looked into his eyes, worried. “We were ambushed at the church, they got Manta Ray. They tortured him for information about me.”

“I know. I encountered him and Morris Brie on the road back to Candia,” said Calroy. 

This was the truth. 

He continued, “I managed to slip out of the city without anyone’s notice, but not before paladins of the Bulb got to the Swirlies.”

This was not.

Lord and Lady Swirly would be found dead in their chambers, seemingly brought down by the Church’s forces. However, if anyone bothered to look, they would notice that the door was not forced, almost as if they had let their attacker in, as if they had recognized them.

Calroy led the rest of the party into the castle, including an unfamiliar monk, lanky, with a shock of pink hair sticking straight up from his head. His wide, hollow eyes appraised Calroy unblinkingly. Cal shivered, as if a shadow passed overhead. Something about this one was off, he’d have to take care of him with the rest of the family. Even as he attempted a reassuring smile, he could feel the monk’s eyes glued to his back, and had the unnerving feeling the man could see straight to his heart.

The group’s tired bodies practically sagged as they entered their home, once sacred and safe. A shocked gasp came from down the hall, and Caramelinda ran to embrace her daughters. Calroy took the opportunity to turn away from the huddled, sobbing Rocks family. He slipped a letter from his coat pocket and handed it, wordlessly, to a passing servant as he walked toward his chambers, ready to enact the last few steps of the plan.

Once alone, Cal’s mask dropped, and the unceasing pace of his heartbeat and fluttering in his stomach sent him pacing recklessly across the room. Over and over he traced the same path, knocking over books and papers left on his desk. At last, the pieces were falling into place. This would be the day that the useless king of Candia would fall at last. Why, then, did Calroy have to grab his own hands to stop them trembling? Why was his mind racing with ways to find more time, to find an excuse to push the plan back, to find another way? He carefully took the water dagger from the compartment under his bed and held it in front of him, barely able to keep his still shaking hands from cutting themselves on the poisonous blade. He stood that way for what felt like hours, unable to put the dagger into the hidden scabbard on his waist, yet resisting the urge to hide it again.

Again and again, Calroy’s thoughts boiled down to one simple question, “Amethar, why did it have to be you?” He let the question out from behind gritted teeth, barely a whisper, but deafening in the almost silent chamber. Against all odds, Amethar had survived four older, smarter sisters and inherited a crown he never wanted. He was a king who didn’t know how to lead, who didn’t want to. Even his wife preferred the ghost of Lazuli to the husband she was forced to settle for. He was never safe, the target on his back yet another part of the legacy he carried. Yet despite all of it, despite all of his faults and mistakes, he kept on living, he remained the Unfallen. And more than that, he remained the man that Calroy loved.

He loved him. There was really no point in denying it anymore, not when the end was so near. He loved him for his smile, for his heart, for his quick humor and easy, relaxed demeanor. He loved him when he shot bored looks Calroy’s way during advisory meetings, and when he encouraged his daughters' practical jokes. He loved him in the dark, secret hours of the night, when Calroy’s pretenses dropped and he simply felt so alone, when he couldn’t help but imagine himself in the king’s bed, at the king’s side.

And yet he hated him. Hated his incompetence, his unearned confidence. His waste of power and money, his easy path. He hated the way everything he had simply fell into his lap, when Cal had struggled for every inch. More than anything he hated the way Amethar looked at him. Hated it, and loved it, and hated it again. So trusting, so… friendly. Never realizing, never  _ seeing  _ Calroy. Not really. 

Calroy’s fist clenched and he stumbled back, suddenly remembering where he was. He became still, resolute for the first time in nearly twenty years. There was never any other option, not for Calroy Cruller. Once laid out bare, the choice was simple, live for power, or die for love.

Calroy hadn’t survived this long for nothing.

He found Amethar in the royal chambers, passing Caramelinda on her way out. Her face was tight with anger, and Calroy knew he would find Amethar dejected. He put his hand on the king’s shoulder.

“How about we head up to the castle walls, Your Majesty. Give the queen some time to cool off.”

“You’re right Cal, you always are.” The king sighed and followed Calroy through the halls to the grounds of the castle.

As the two men ascended the stone steps of the battlements, Calroy was no longer trembling. In fact, he felt a deep stillness, a sense of inevitability. His face betrayed no anxieties as he half-listened to the king recount his argument with Caramelinda. As they reached the top, he realized he hadn’t really heard what the king was saying, but it didn’t matter. Amethar was already at the edge of the wall, his focus on the sprawling tents of Candia’s forces, or really, Calroy’s forces, the Muffinfield banner flying high.

Cal grasped Amethar on the shoulder, and the king turned his head to look at him. Something stirred in Calroy. One last time, he searched, desperate for anything there that might allow him to end this, take it all back and be with Amethar the way it always should have been. His chest grew tight as what he’d always known was confirmed in the open, smiling face of Amethar Rocks. There was love, of course there was: the love for a friend, for a brother, for a closest confidant.

It wasn’t enough. 

Resentment and self-loathing rose like bile in Cal’s throat. The anger extended down his tensed arm as he raised it behind Amethar’s back, and plunged the water dagger deep. The former king’s solid body gave way beneath the poison, and Cal felt him tense as the paralysis took hold. Amethar’s eyes were wide, his expression changing to one of confusion and pain as his head turned toward his oldest friend. He tried to speak, to cry out but his vocal cords refused to move. 

Cal’s muscles strained as he held Amethar and twisted the dagger yet deeper, grunting with the effort, moving until he was holding him inches from the edge of the wall. The height was dizzying, yet Cal steeled himself. There was just one thing left to say, the thing that Cal had held back for twenty years, the thing that bubbled to his lips almost involuntarily at the sight of the paralyzed king.

“Do you know what I’ve always hated about you, Amethar?”


End file.
